


I'm Not Going Anywhere

by RelicIron



Series: Mercenary [8]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alien Biology, Anxiety, Anxious Arcann, Force Bond (Star Wars), Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Tender Sex, Touch-Starved, they both deserve nice things ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25891750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelicIron/pseuds/RelicIron
Summary: Arcann’s still worried that Caden will come to his senses at any minute and leave him, so Caden decides to reassure him a bit.
Relationships: Arcann/Male Bounty Hunter (Star Wars)
Series: Mercenary [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833691
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	I'm Not Going Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there, welcome to the smut. I finally thought I’d gotten good enough to write some for the first time in years, hopefully it’s decent.  
> Caden is a double amputee, both legs are gone just above the knee, and looking back I only hinted at it once or twice, but I’ve been trying to not make it a huge part of his personality, it’s just a thing he lives with. I’ve mentioned this before, but I headcanon Mirialans as having some reptilian features, like the thrum and the sheath dick. Also, I figure Arcann’s had sex before, just no relationships.

If you had told Caden a year ago, that the word ‘timid’ could ever be used to describe Arcann, he would have laughed in your face.

And yet almost three weeks in to their new relationship, and behind closed doors, that’s exactly what he was.

And it made his chest ache to watch.

Arcann almost never initiated touch, but from the way he leaned into the simplest brush of Caden’s fingers, he clearly wanted it. And on those rare instances where he would reach out and draw Caden into a kiss, it was always with the air of a man trying to handle a skittish animal. Like if he moved to fast, or put his hand in the wrong place, Caden would bolt.

Bolting was about the furthest thing from his mind when they were spending time together, and it would almost be funny if it wasn’t absolutely heartbreaking.

Caden had gotten better at reading him through their bond, and so he knew exactly what sort of emotions were swirling around in Arcann’s head.

He was terrified.

It mellowed a bit when Caden was kissing or holding him, but it got worse when Arcann was the one reaching out.

It’s like he was waiting for Caden to leave.

Like at any moment, he’d come to his senses, remember everything Arcann did to him, and walk right out the door. And every action he took came with the fear that this would be the thing that drove Caden away. It makes him want to bring Valkorian back to life just so he could kill him again, to make it _slower_ , make it _**hurt**_.

They’re alone in Caden’s room, sitting side by side on the couch with their respective datapads still resting in their laps, and Arcann is pressing gentle, hesitant kisses to Caden’s lips. He’s _trying_ not to push him. Arcann had told him that while he’d had brief encounters, he’d never had anything long term before, and Caden really, _really_ didn’t want to rush him.

But when he pulls away again, with that soft look on his face and the pang of anxiety through the bond, he honestly can’t take it anymore.

This time, he follows him. Pressing Arcann back into the couch and settling heavily into his lap.

His eyes are wide with surprise, but his hands settle instinctively on Caden’s thighs and **grip**.

“Y’ know I’m not goin’ anywhere, right?” he asks quietly, making sure to catch Arcann’s eye and hold it.

He sees his throat work and Arcann looks away, still so worried despite Caden literally straddling him.

So he reaches forward and turns his face back.

“I’m not leavin’. Don’t think there’s much you can do to scare me off,” he says, quirking his lips, “y’ may’ve noticed I don’t spook easy.”

That at least draws a soft chuckle from him.

“You’re allowed to want things, touch if y’ want, I can guarantee I’ll welcome it,” Caden whispers, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his forehead and feeling him shiver, “I promise I’m here for the long haul.”

Arcann’s eyes close and he draws a slow, shuddery breath, before his hands slide up Caden’s thighs to grasp his hips and drag him in until they’re pressed tight together. There’s want on the other end of their connection, unsteady like he’s so used to hiding it that it’s hard to let down his walls, but gaining strength when Caden happily reflects it. A hand leaves his hip to slide up over his belly and chest to find a home on the side of his neck, and when Arcann kisses him this time, it’s not so gentle.

It’s _**hard**_ and rough, and it takes his breath away. All that pent up feeling pouring out now that he’s finally been assured it won’t be turned away.

They’re both a little clumsy. Been too long since either of them have done this, but they slowly find a rhythm and then all he can think about is the heat building between them and the feel of Arcann’ lips on his.

He groans into Caden’s mouth, low and gravelly, as he slips a hand under Arcann’s shirt to drag across the hard won muscle there, feel it twitch slightly under the unexpected touch. The cloth and cut don’t have much give to them, so he doesn’t linger long before he’s pulling his hand back out and attacking the clasps of the shirt.

He only gets a few open before Arcann is stopping him, a nervous look flitting across his flushed face when he pulls back.

Ah.

He could guess why.

“Sorry... you don’t need t’ take it off if you don’t want to.”

They’d seen each other’s scars, the ones they’d given each other, but hiding the pitted skin around the anchor plates of his cybernetic was deeply ingrained now, and Arcann still struggled with it.

He shook his head and carefully undid the remaining clasps himself, leaving his shirt loose for Caden to push open.

The damage was severe of course, there was no getting around that, and it still made something ache in Caden’s chest to see the deep burn over his sternum, skin melted from the final shot he’d fired into him point blank on the flagship nearly a year ago. But the scars were secondary, textured fingers of pretty silver-pink that fanned out over his pale torso. The muscle underneath was breath taking, all clean lines under skin softer than it had any right to be.

Arcann’s looking away from him again, and he can feel the anxiety building in the bond, _poor_ _man_ _doesn’t realize how attractive he is_. He makes an easy decision.

“Here.”

He slips easily off Arcann’s lap, ignoring the pang of loss it brings both of them, to stand and take off his boots, undo his belt, and carefully slide out of his pants, taking care not to let the fabric catch on the metal components. At this point, he has little problem with showing his cybernetics, though from what he understands, he’s had a lot longer to come to terms with them than Arcann has with his arm.

Climbing back into his lap, he hears Arcann make a soft noise, raising his hand to touch before glance up at Caden.

“May I...”

He hums his assent, though there’s not much to touch really besides the hardware, the socket sleeves cup the majority of his thighs with only a few inches of skin available between the inner edge and his boxer briefs. He trails his fingers over Caden’s metal knees and the soft sockets, before getting bolder, splaying his hands across the meat of his thighs and squeezing.

“Guess that means you like what y’ see?” he purrs, letting his voice go all dark and smoky, grinning a sharp-toothed smile as he watches Arcann shiver. His only response is to slide his hands over his hips to grab handfuls of his ass, startling a breathless laugh out of Caden.

“Good thing then,” he says, licking his lips and watching Arcann track the movement, “Cause I feel the same.”

They meet again, and at some point Caden looses his shirt too so they can both run hands over each other and feel skin. Now that he can, Arcann’s touching him like he’s making up for lost time, like he’s something special instead of a battered old merc.

Being treated like this, it feels… good, makes something warm burrow up into his chest and sit there glowing.

He spreads his legs a little wider, settles a little lower in Arcann’s lap so he can grind into him, and the sharp gasp he gets makes him grin into his neck. Arcann’s hard against him, the hot line of it like a brand against his inner thigh and he can’t help but reach down and rub a firm palm along it, swallowing Arcann’s moan and enjoying the way his hips stutter beneath him.

“Caden...” And oh, he sounds wrecked already, cybernetic hand clutching his hip in a death grip as the other stays anchored on the back of his neck. Caden hums comfortingly, scooting back a bit as he undoes his belt and pants; shoving it all down far enough so that he can get a hand inside.

The minute his fingers curl around his cock, Arcann’s head thunks against the back of the couch as he shudders. And really, it’d be a crime to leave that nice neck unattended, so he happily leans forward to lave open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down the muscle to his collarbone, stroking him all the while and absolutely _reveling_ in the bitten off sounds that positively claw their way out of him in that gravelly baritone.

There’s a brief, aborted movement from his left hand, reaching for the front of Caden’s underwear before he remembers himself and switches for his right. As much as he likes Arcann’s hand, beautifully crafted thing that it is, pinchy joints and metal fingers are not the sort of thing you want anywhere near your bits.

The fingers that slide under his waist band are warm and calloused, and if Arcann hadn’t sought out a kiss right then Caden might have remembered sooner, but its only when those fingers hesitate and feel around curiously that he realizes the problem.

“Shit, sorry, should’a warned you,” he says hurriedly, “Mirialan equipment is a lil’ different from yours.”

He doesn’t pull away, which is a relief. Humans were squirrelly beasts and sometimes freaked out when confronted with a species with parts that are different from what they expected.

Instead, the bastard has the gall to nose under Caden’s jaw and positively _rumble_ into his ear, “Tell me what you need.”

Shit. _Fuck_.

“Ok,” his voice is a little higher than it should be, but he can hardly care with all the blood in his head rushing south, “shit, alright, dick’s inside ‘ll come out when it’s ready, seam’s sensitive but I’m partial to rubbin’ harder on either side of it ‘cause the pressure’s nice, don’t stick your fingers inside my sheath until it opens on it’s own, alright?” The ‘crash course in Mirialan men’ all but tumbles out, hurried and breathless as Arcann gently rubs his knuckles back and forth over the crease of Caden’s thigh, like he’s trying to soothe a spooked varactyl.

“I can do that,” he murmurs and Caden jumps as his hand shifts back down to draw tentative fingers along the length of his seam. The touches are light and exploratory which means they’re teasing as all hell, and he’s almost resolved himself to say something when Arcann presses his fingers firmly on either side of the slit and drags them forward.

It chokes a curse out of him as his hips jolt against Arcann’s hand. The pressure squeezes the inside of his sheath around the tip of his cock, helps relax the muscles holding it closed, and it’s damn near making Caden’s eyes roll back in his head.

His forehead is resting on Arcann’s shoulder and he’s vaguely aware that his own hand has fallen slack around Arcann’s length but its been so damn long and he can hardly _focus_ and-

He hisses urgently and grabs Arcann’s wrist, forcing him to still. The muscles finally release and he shivers as his cock nudges it’s way out, bumping awkwardly against the heel of Arcann’s hand and leaving a wet smear before it settles into place. It’s only then that he lets go, panting in the mini-high that comes along with it and forcing himself to get a grip or things were going to be over much faster than he’d like.

“Lil’ more familiar now?”

Arcann’s gaze flicks back up to him and- damn… there’s barely any blue left in his eyes with how dark they’ve gotten. It sends a shiver down his spine and he can’t help but dip his head and kiss him deep and slow. A groan catches in his throat as Arcann starts to stroke him, hand sliding easily through the natural slick. He tightens his own fingers around Arcann’s cock and starts keeping pace, feeling the man’s belly tense with the urge to thrust up into it.

It’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. Arcann’s gasping into his mouth and the air between them smells like sex. It’s good, its so damn _good_ , but he wants- he _needs_ to be closer.

He pulls Arcann’s hand off of him, barely has time to notice the faint spike of worry before he’s scooting forward. Their cocks brush against each other and Arcann’s hand is slick, so it takes little urging for him to wrap it around them both, squeezing them together and pulling a deep moan from the back of Caden’s throat.

He adds his own hand, resting his fingers over Arcann’s and letting him control the speed. Rocking into their shared grip as Arcann buries his face into Caden’s neck, panting hot against his throat.

“Fuck, Arcann, I-”

He hears an answering groan into his shoulder as their hands speed up and Caden can barely _breath_ _e_ _._

It’s Arcann who comes first, his voice cracking around Caden’s name as warmth spatters over their knuckles. But it’s the sound of him breaking, his own name ground out in Arcann’s voice gone deeper with pleasure, the way he jerks and strains beneath him, **that** bring Caden over the edge, shuddering apart in Arcann’s arms as he spills between them too.

They both slump against each other, panting in the shared space between them as they come down from the high, a skin warmed metal hand smoothing up and down Caden’s back.

Caden sighs and pulls back just enough to kiss him, slow and sated, just enjoying the feel of his lips. The bond between them is almost completely open and filled with a warm, sleepy pleasure and something Caden isn’t willing to name just yet. He **wants** to lay down and burrow into Arcann’s chest, but the rapidly cooling mess between them is starting to feel gross and someone needs to take care of it.

He gives Arcann one last kiss before heaving himself to his feet, wobbling a little as his cybernetics try to remember how to communicate with his brain and the couch creaks behind him as Arcann stands to follow.

He wets a pair of washcloths in the ‘fresher and tosses one to Arcann so they can clean themselves up, rinsing them briefly when they’re done, but the pang of anxiety that isn’t his gives him pause.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he turns back to Arcann. Caden reaches out once he’s close, skims his fingers down his arms and tries to keep his own fears in check.

Arcann ducks his head nervously, “I’m not certain what you want now, should I leave... or do you want me to-”

“Stay,” he murmurs, “please.”

The way Arcann’s shoulders lose their tension and the relief he feels from him tells Caden that was the answer he was hoping for.

“Come on.”

He takes his hand and leads him to the bed, urging him down and letting him get comfortable before sitting on the edge. He’s about to follow but…

It’s been a long day, spent mostly on his feet, and after what they just did, his thighs are sweaty and vaguely irritated in their sockets.

“You mind, uh... if I take these off?” he asks, gesturing to his legs and trying to keep the nerves from his voice. It was one thing for people to accept them with the cybernetics **on** , but sometimes-

“Please, whatever you need,” he says, reaching out to squeeze Caden’s hand. He shouldn’t have worried, but… Arcann’s opinion of him **matters** now, and he’s had some previous partners freak out on him. It’s a soft spot for him, and a rejection here would **hurt**.

He flinches as he disengages the nerve endings from the anchor posts sunk in his femurs, he’s used to it by now but it isn’t pleasant. Leaning them up against the nightstand, he uses his arms to walk himself backward across the bed until he can lay down and roll over into Arcann. His arms immediately encircle and pull Caden in the rest of the way until they’re pressed together from hips to chest. Thigh resting on top of Arcann’s, he plants a few lazy kisses beneath his jaw before nuzzling into his neck and finally relaxing into him. A warm bed and the warmer body of the man he trusts.

There’s a brief fight, clearing his throat and swallowing reflexively, before he gives in to the comfort and lets the building thrum start to rumble out of his chest.

Arcann’s voice is hesitant but amused when he asks, “Are you purring?”

He huffs into his collarbone, “Maybe… you want me t’ stop?”

“No,” he says quietly, petting down Caden’s side and feeling the vibration beneath his ribs.

If there was any tension left in him it quickly seeps out and the thrum kicks up a little louder when he feels Arcann begin to comb fingers through his hair. He presses a kiss to Caden’s temple as he settles further and soon enough the only sound in the room is the rumble in his chest and Arcann’s steady breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it, kudos and comments are definitely appreciated.


End file.
